


Spring and a Storm

by kimmsie



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Video Blogging RPF, mcyt
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blizzards & Snowstorms, DSMP, Domestic Fluff, Dream Smp, F/M, Fluff, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Title Based on a Song, Winged Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Wings, also philza is SOFT!, i fucking love tropes where characters with wings shield loved ones from bad weather, mcyt - Freeform, mcyt tag system sucks, that's where this stems from, this is NOT about a real person its about a character ive been hyperfixating on
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-14 21:47:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29302947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kimmsie/pseuds/kimmsie
Summary: Weeks ago, an accident fell on the silent ears of the forest. Winter is harsh; it's blizzarding again.(RPF tags are for traction. This is a work based on fictional characters and no more.)
Relationships: c!Philza/Original Female Character
Comments: 3
Kudos: 8





	Spring and a Storm

**Author's Note:**

> i'm SO happy with the characterization in this especially through dialogue i really think i nailed phil's speech patterns. this was something entirely self-indulgent BUT my friends really liked it, so i figured i'd post it since it's been a while since i got back into this website <3 miss reading all the nice comments from you guys

“Hey, mate. Why are you still up?”

“Oh,” Kimmie says, startled. She’s standing on the balcony of Techno’s house, staying there for the time being until a silverfish infestation is taken care of. Techno is out somewhere, and Ranboo has tucked in for the night in a nearby makeshift shed. It’s frigid and silent, the atmosphere muffled by a flurry of falling snow. She’s colder than she realized at first, leaning on the wooden railing with her numb fingertips facing the ground. “How late is it?”

Phil furrows his brow with concern. “Just about 2 a.m. How – How long have you been out here?” She blinks a few times.

“I don’t know.” She says, only just realizing for herself. How long has it been? She shakes her head, and a few stray flakes find their way to the ground. She looks down and notices that she only has one shoe on. “Oh,” She says again. “Hm.” She wiggles her toes. They’re numb, too, but only on the foot that is without a slipper.

“Come on. Let’s get you warmed up, yeah?” He says, gesturing to the doors with a head nod and a slight twitch of one of his wings in their direction. She turns to stare out at the snow.

“Do we have to?” She asks, straightening up, stretching her back for the first time in who knows how long. “It’s cold in there. Too dark.” She looks at him. “It smells like gunpowder, which gives me a headache.” She's spacey. It's hard to bring herself out of whatever haze has settled over her mind.

He thinks for a moment. “My place is just past that hill over there. See the smoke?” She nods. “Means a fire’s going. It’ll be warm.” He offers a little half-smile. “Won’t smell like gunpowder. Well, maybe a bit in the basement.” He laughs but quickly turns serious. “You can’t stay out here in the cold.”

“Okay,” Kimmie agrees, willing to do anything that will get her out of Techno's house, and starts to head down the stairs.

“Ope – Wait up,” He says, reaching out to gently catch her from moving forward. “How about some proper shoes? Maybe a coat?”

She slowly flexes her fingers, and nods, but hesitates. “I don’t want to go inside.” 

Phil presses his lips together, not wanting to leave her alone. “Look. Compromise.” He tilts his head down and slightly to the side, his hair falling from where it was tucked behind his ear. “I’ll go in to grab your boots, okay? They’re right by the door.” He smiles warmly. “You won’t wander off if I do that?” She shakes her head. “Alright. Here.” He sheds his coat, carefully tucking his wings through the slits in the back, and drapes it over her shoulders.

“You need this,” Kimmie says, but appreciatively releases a tense breath she didn’t realize she was holding. The coat is warm from being worn and lined with fleece. It’s much too big for her, but she doesn’t mind.

“Psh.” Phil waves a hand in dismissal. “We’ll just be popping over the hill. It won’t be far enough for me to even feel it.” He puts a hand on her arm for a brief, comforting second. “I’ll go get those shoes of yours now, ‘k?” She nods, and he opens the side doors to the house, stepping just barely inside.

“’K.” She shuffles back into her spot, now focused on the chimney smoke and the soft light glowing at the edge of the snow pile across the field. She knew Phil lived close – he came to visit Techno and Ranboo often, even for the few days she had been staying with them – but she didn’t realize he was right there. Somehow, in all of the times they had seen each other, she had never known where he lived. She wraps the coat tighter, burying her cold nose into the fluff around the edges. It smells like mint and fresh air and sweet cologne. Phil backs out of the doors, making sure to close them behind, and turns around, holding her shoes by their laces.

“Here ya go,” He says, placing them down. “Your fingers aren’t too frozen to tie ‘em, right?” She shakes her head, sits on the deck, and removes her one slipper, replacing it with one of the boots and working on lacing it up. Phil crouches to her level. “Why were you out here?”

She shoves her other foot into the next one, her toes still numb. “I don’t really remember.” She says, but it’s a weak lie, and she knows it. Phil’s face shifts between a few expressions, and she tries not to acknowledge the concern. It’s starting to snow harder now. There’s a rustling of feathers, and a shadow passes over her as she finishes tying the laces. Phil is looking off to the side, but as he notices her attention shift, he turns his head and offers a soft smile. “Thanks,” She says, now shielded from the cold bite of the wind and snow.

“’Course,” He responds, looking down at the deck and then back to her. “You should really be wearing something for your hands.” He adds, reaching out and taking them between his. “Frostbite is brutal.” He’s wearing sleek white gloves that fit perfectly, allowing for precise movement and grip; even though they’re almost as thin as possible, they keep the heat in. “Jesus, you’re cold.” He laughs, moving his hands against hers to create friction.

“You’re warm,” She counters, and stops his movement by curling her fingers into his palms. The wind calms down again, leaving a quaint silence around them. The tips of his feathers brush against her back (she can feel them through the coat, even): a gentle presence. She wants to inch closer, to fall into him, and a part of her is just waiting for it to happen.

“We should get goin’,” He says, making no visible attempt to move and do so. Kimmie doesn’t move, either. Her fingertips are starting to regain feeling and prickle painfully, so she adjusts her hands, and Phil takes this as a sign to pull away. He retracts his wings enough to let her stand, and they both do. She sticks her hands in the pockets of the coat. “It looks further than it is.”

Kimmie hums quietly in response. The snow crunches under their feet. A large gust of wind blows harshly at their backs, and Phil extends his wing again, guiding her slightly closer to him and shielding her from it. “Why are you up so late?” She asks, breaking the silence.

“Well,” He chuckles, and tilts his head towards Ranboo’s shack. The lights are off, now – he’s probably asleep. “This one has been having a rough time getting settled lately.” He smiles at the dark building. “It took a while to calm him down tonight, but we got there.” He sighs. “Now: why were you up? And out there on the freezing balcony, no less.”

Kimmie hesitates. “I don’t remember.” She repeats. They walk in silence up the little hill, and when they reach the top, the house is revealed. It’s small but cozy. The perfect size, to be honest. The chimney is still spitting smoke at the cloud-filled sky, and a porch light illuminates the door and a semicircle around it in a warm glow. He was right: the hill looked much larger than it was, and the journey passes quickly, especially on the way down.

Phil pauses at the door and turns to her. “Please tell me the truth,” He urges, his voice gentle. “There aren’t any silverfish, are there? Hell, Kimmie, you don’t have a fuckin’ winter coat. I know for a fact you did last week when you visited.” He looks down at her with immense worry, and she finds her throat closing. “What happened?”

She steadies herself, balling her fists in the pockets of the coat. “It’s gone, Phil.” She whispers, barely able to get the words out, her voice cracking. “I came back from visiting Niki and it was – it was smoldering, the ash was still hot.” She laughs, and the sound is watery as she starts to cry. She looks up at the sky, blinking furiously, but the cold air only encourages the tears. “I don’t even have a house anymore.” She cuts herself off, unable to talk any longer.

“Christ,” He breathes. “None of us had any idea.”

“I – I know,” She nods, sniffling. “I – I couldn’t s-say it.” She shudders, trying to stop breathing so erratically. “I don’t know what I – I’m going t-to do!” She sobs, crossing her arms across her stomach and folding slightly over into herself as if she could feel her middle aching.

“Fuck,” Phil says, and without another second of hesitation draws her close, pulling her against him. He envelops her in a secure hug, his wings folding around her and keeping her gently covered from the snow.

“It smelled like gunpowder,” Kimmie whispers into his shirt, trying to keep herself steady. “It wasn’t an accident.”

He curses again under his breath. “It’s gonna be okay,” He murmurs, moving his thumbs up and down against her back with a soothing rhythm. “I promise. It’s gonna be okay.” Almost without thinking, he kisses the top of her head and rests his chin there, closing his eyes. They stand in the soft light of the lantern, in the snow, until Kimmie stops shaking. At some point, Phil takes to gently stroking her hair with one hand, finding that it helps to calm her breathing. “Y’ alright?” He asks, still holding her close.

She nods against his chest. “I think so.”

“Good,” He does the same, slowly. “I promise it’ll be okay.” He says for the third time. “I mean that. Fuck – I’ll make sure it’ll be okay.” He pulls back, bending down slightly to make better eye contact. “I’ll build your house again from th’ ground up.” Kimmie laughs, her eyes watering again. Phil gently wipes a tear from her cheek with his thumb and then pulls her back into the hug. “I’m so glad you weren’t hurt,” He adds, ever so quietly.

That causes her to start crying again. “Hey,” He shushes her. “Let’s go inside, yeah? Get you warmed up?”

“Okay.”

“I’m gonna let go. Is that alright?”

“Mhm.”

“Just for now,” He says, pulling away. “We get in there, I’ll make us some tea, ‘nd I can hold you all you’d like.” Kimmie wipes at her eyes with the backs of her pointer fingers, nodding along. He fidgets with his hands as he shakes his wings free of loose snowflakes and settles them back into place, grinning bashfully. He was never one to hold himself back from saying things, and it being so late certainly doesn’t make that impulse any less prominent.

He opens the door and gestures for her to walk through. She does so, immediately relaxing due to the warmth. She observes a small kitchen space to the left side of a large living room, complete with a brick fireplace against the far-right wall, which is already lit. There's one recliner and one couch, along with a squat wooden table on a rug in the center. “This is nice,” She compliments earnestly, shivering a little despite the heat. Her socks and shirt are wet from the time she spent outside before he found her.

“Thanks! Built it myself.” Phil responds, entering behind her and finally getting them into a space safe from the weather. “Techno helped a bit, ‘course. And Will, with the trim.” He sighs happily. “He always was good at design.” He shakes his head slightly and notices her trembling. “Ah! Take those boots off, come with me.”

She kicks them onto a shoe mat next to her and follows him through the kitchen and into a hallway that she hadn’t noticed before past the fridge. “Wait here a sec,” He says, and disappears briefly into one of the rooms leading off, returning with some folded clothes in his arms. “Here. Bathroom’s at the end of the hall,” He points to the door, “Go on and change into something that isn’t soaked. I’m going t’ put the kettle on, but call me if you need anything." He gives her shoulder a reassuring squeeze and hands her the clothes.

Kimmie makes it into the bathroom and locks herself in, looking into the mirror over the sink. She pulls at the skin under her eyes, inspecting the dark circles, then hangs Phil’s coat on a hook on the back of the door and peels off the rest of her wet clothes. The pajamas are too big for her, much like the coat, but they’re soft and comfortable. They’re a matching green set, the top patterned with white plaid lines. Between the shirt and pants, she finds a pair of white, fuzzy socks with tiny red hearts dotted all over.

After draping her clothes over the edge of the bathtub she takes the coat down, folding it over her arms. Walking through the house she’s met with comfortable silence, save for the sound of a burner hissing as she reaches the kitchen. “Hi,” She offers, standing uncertainly with the coat in her arms.

“Hey,” Phil smiles, just finishing reaching for a box of tea bags in one of the upper cabinets. “Just lay that over one of the chairs.” He says, taking out two orangey-yellow packets and putting the box back. “Go ahead an’ sit somewhere. Water’ll be done soon.”

“M’kay,” She responds, leaving the coat in the kitchen and gingerly taking a seat at the end of the couch, pulling her legs up against the side to watch him putter around. He’s humming a little to himself, she can hear it even over the slowly heightening sound of the water bubbling in the kettle (which is white and adorned with a pattern of little green and yellow flowers). She rests her cheek against the back of the couch.

Phil opens a cupboard and takes two mugs down, and she recognizes one of them from a gift exchange ages ago, back when they both lived in L’Manberg and barely knew each other. It’s a simple brown and white ceramic mug, something she made in a pottery class and was decently proud of. The other is of a similar size and looks to have something written on the side in small text that she can’t read. He puts a teabag in each and takes the kettle from the stove just as it starts to whistle.

He looks so peaceful, she thinks to herself, all in his own little world. The kitchen’s light is gentle and forms a soft halo around his head. Accompanied by his wings, he looks truly angelic. He keeps humming as he pours the water into the mugs and glances over to catch her staring. She gives a little smile rather than looking away, and he returns it with an even bigger one. He puts the kettle back onto the no longer burning stove and picks up both mugs, carrying them over. “Here we go,” He says, setting them down on top of two coasters on the little wooden table and sitting next to her. “Give ‘em a minute to steep, and we’ll have a great brew ready.”

“Thanks for bringing me here,” Kimmie says, pulling the sleeves of the shirt down over her fingers. “It’s so much better than Techno’s.”

Phil chuckles. “The kid’s great, but he’s got a poor sense of what makes a place homely.”

She laughs. “You’re right.”

They sit for a moment, listening to the crackling of the fire. He picks up the mug with writing and hands her the brown one. “Should be ready now.”

She holds it in both hands, blowing on the surface after bobbing the bag up and down a couple of times. The steam wavers. “I gave you this mug,” She comments, pausing from trying to cool it down to look at him.

“You did,” He responds, giving her a lopsided smile. “Two years ago, around the winter holidays.” He rests his mug on his lap, a hand over its top.

“I’m glad you kept it.” She takes a small sip.

He looks out a window across from them at the snow flurrying outside. “So am I.”

They finish their tea in silence, save for the wind and the fire, and Phil takes the empty mugs to the sink, flicking the big lights off, leaving only the fire for illumination. When he returns, he sits facing her. “How’re ya feeling?” He prompts gently, his voice leveling to a lower register.

“A lot better,” She says, and her words trail off into a yawn, to which she laughs. “Finally tired. I haven’t been able to sleep well in a while.”

“Well then, c’mere.” He gives a knowing smile, holding his arms open. “I’m a man of my word.” She feels her face warm but leans into him willingly. “What I said earlier still stands,” He murmurs, lowering his tone. “It’s gonna be okay.”

“Phil,” She says, the hint of a smile in her voice, “You’re going to make me cry again.”

“Suppose I should stop talking then. Don’t want that.” She sees him smiling out of the corner of her eye as his wing settles gently around her shoulder, cupping her to his side. “I’m gonna pick you up a little,” He quietly informs her. “’S that alright?”

“Mhm,” She approves through another yawn. He carefully hooks his arms under her knees and behind her back, easily lifting her and shifting himself into the corner of the couch, pulling her onto his lap.

“Comfy?” He asks, barely having to raise his voice, as he’s close to her ear.

“Yeah,” She mumbles, nodding and resting her head against his collarbone, smelling the same sweet cologne and mint from his coat. He resumes humming quietly.

There are a few minutes of silence. “I was really scared,” She keeps her eyes closed, focusing on the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. “At first, I just didn’t know what to do. I guess – what’s even expected in a situation like that?” Phil stays silent, giving her the time to collect her thoughts and speak. “I just started walking. It was freezing that night. I walked until I hit forest, and then I kept going until I found a creek, a little ravine. By that point, my feet were soaked and starting to lose feeling.

I slipped on the edge and fell into it. Techno found me after I started to walk again – by then it was getting light. He was staking out the perimeter of his house like he usually does. I told him I had been attacked by silverfish, which accounted for all of the scrapes I had gotten on the way down.” She picks her head up and finally looks at him, leaning her head against the back of the couch. “I still don’t really know what to do. I’ve been taking it one step at a time, but… Tonight was really bad. Same conditions outside as that night.

Part of me just wanted to walk right back into the storm and keep going until I couldn’t anymore.” She meets his eyes. “But then you came outside, and it quieted the part of me that did.” She half-smiles. “It isn’t gone, but it’s quiet.”

He lets his hand fall from her hair to gently cup her cheek. “You gotta stay safe,” He says, looking at her with an intense mix of emotions, most of which she can’t even pick out. His face is lit only by the glow of the fireplace. “If you can’t do it for yourself yet, do it for me.”

She nods, leaning into his palm as he softly rubs her cheek with his thumb. “That sounds manageable.”

“Good.” Kimmie lays back down, and he kisses her forehead. “You aren’t allowed to go anywhere.” He whispers. “Ok? You’re not leavin’.”

“I’m not,” She reassures him.

He lets out a deep, slightly shaky breath. “Good.” He laughs. “You had me worried there.” They lay in silence for a while, and he eventually wraps one arm around her waist, rubbing small circles on her back. “You could stay with me, you know.” He says, softly. “For as long as you need.”

“I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

“I think it’s quite obvious at this point that I like havin’ you around.” He leans to the side in an attempt to see her face. “It gets awful quiet around here. I’d enjoy the company.” She shifts her head back to look up at him. He smiles. “How about it?”

“I think – I think it’d be better than Techno’s.” Phil laughs.

“Could be.” The fire is starting to burn out completely, the room almost entirely dark. “You ever been in a moment that just feels right?” He asks. The snow falls past the window outside. Kimmie listens to his heartbeat.

“Yeah.”

“This is one of ‘em for me.” He says, and she sits up a bit more to look at him properly and fully. She wants to save this moment, to freeze it in time to return to whenever possible. She’s warm from the comfortable clothes and the fire, sleepy from the darkness and the tea and the snow. She takes in his face; his hair sticking up in bits from the static of the couch, the way the light accentuates what it can, the pale green color of his eyes. Phil studies her the same way she does.

“You know,” He whispers, pausing as though something big is coming, “You look damn adorable in those pajamas.” She blinks once, twice, startled by the statement and appreciative of the lack of light in the room. He reaches out and tucks a piece of her hair behind her ear _so_ gently. “I’m so glad you’re safe,” He adds, his hand lingering next to her face before dropping back to his side.

“Thank you for making sure I was.” She responds, tentatively reaching out to rest her palm at his cheek. He tilts his head and falls against it, smiling up at her. Kimmie strokes his face, then puts her left hand in the same place on his right. She leans down and gently puts her forehead against his.

Phil closes his eyes, and she does the same, sitting together in the comfortable silence, reveling in the intimacy of it all. She opens them again to see him watching her with a little smile pulling at his lips. “Hey,” He murmurs.

“Hi,” She says, and catches herself looking down for a second too long. When she focuses on his eyes again, they’re crinkling with the widening of his smile.

“Okay,” He repeats, and she lifts her head slightly.

“Okay?” Kimmie questions, for clarity.

He’s grinning now. “Okay,” Phil repeats the gesture: glancing down at her lips and then back up to her eyes.

They hold eye contact for a long second, the fire crackling ever so quietly behind them. “Okay,” She says, as he lifts his head slightly forward, and she tilts hers down to meet him in the middle. He reaches up to cup her face as well, and when the kiss breaks, they sit, stunned, holding each other.

“Have I convinced you to stay with me yet?” He whispers, interrupting the silence. She laughs and shakes her head, resting their foreheads together once more. “’S that a yes?” He continues teasingly, and she kisses him again for good measure.

“Alright,” She says. “Fine. You win.”

He grins. “I win,” He repeats, and gently pulls her back against him. She buries her face into his neck, and he chuckles, resuming stroking her hair. “Your nose is cold.”

“Thanks for the tea. And for – for everything.”

He hums in response. “’S nothing, really. Just wanna keep you safe.” She smiles a little, curling her legs up more. After a long bout of silence, when Kimmie’s just about to fall asleep, he whispers to her. “You still awake?”

“Mmn.” She responds reluctantly, and he laughs softly again.

“Alright, sleepyhead. C’mere.” He pulls her gently up into his lap, and sits up, holding her bridal style now. She keeps her head against his chest and makes a tiny noise of protest. “Don’t worry, I’m not goin’ anywhere.” He stands, lifting her with him, and she yawns as he walks with her through the kitchen, past the fridge, and into the little hallway, then into the room he brought the pajamas from before. “You need a good night’s rest.” He says, managing to tug the covers of the bed back before laying her gently down.

She yawns again and rubs her eye, blinking up at him sleepily. “Stay,” She mumbles. Phil tilts his head, looking down at her with a tender smile, brushing her hair off her face.

“I’ll go take care of the fire first.” He tells her. “Bed’s a bit small, but we’ll make it work.”

“Mm.” She nods, closing her eyes as he leans over her to pull the sheets back up.

“I’ll be right back. Won’t even notice I’m gone.” Phil says, bending to softly kiss her forehead, and she nods into the pillow, already half asleep. He leaves her in the dark bedroom, extinguishing the embers that are left burning in the fireplace, and pauses at the window to look out on the snow. The footprints they made earlier down the hill have already been blown away. As he takes his coat from the kitchen chair and hangs it up by the door, he is grateful for his luck in finding her when he did.

Kimmie curls up under the covers, rubbing her feet back and forth, trying her best to stay awake. There’s a little space heater in the corner of the room that’s making it extremely comfortable (and hard to not drift off). She’s nearly there when he returns, so far gone that she probably won’t remember the moment in the morning as he rummages in a few drawers, leaves, and comes back in pajamas.

He gets into the other side of the bed and she shifts a little, allowing him to pull her close. “See? Back already,” He whispers. She makes a very quiet sound in response, and he smiles, closing his eyes.

They fall asleep together. Kimmie first, almost immediately; Phil second, after some time, but comfortably, nonetheless. The weather continues throughout the night, but neither is bothered.

There is safety within the walls of the cabin, there is warmth, and there is no apprehension.


End file.
